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Christopher Felix Bezzina

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Men … Spirit
stood upon knees,
needy submissive
to a mistress.

Vanished pleasures
of pegged solitudes,
evenings remembered
under a bloody moon.

Such marked pain;
enjoyed punishment,
secretly decreed;
named for men.

Noon wrestlers
with untangled secrets.
Engulfed aches, 
of lonely nights.

Our limits:
those lost gardens.
Withered glimpses,
midst strangers.

The whore made of soil
we coupled;
torn veins
of fruitless pleasures.

Men … Spirit
torched and loved.
Fiery ecstasy,
punished with thongs.

 

 


Photo: ANDREI VISHNYAKOV

Author’s Rights Reserved
Any material on the blog cannot be published all or in part except with prior consent of the author. Feel welcome to contact me if you wish to publish on this website, or to publish my work on other writing platforms.

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